


No More Room

by Timeless_Anarchy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Canon, Gen, World War II, Zombie, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 23:24:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11195646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timeless_Anarchy/pseuds/Timeless_Anarchy
Summary: When Bucky was captured in Azzano, Steve tore through the base looking for his best friend, becoming an international hero almost overnight.Too bad he released more than Prisoners of War that night...





	No More Room

_ When there is no more room left in Hell,  
_ _ The dead will finally walk the Earth. _

 

The trek back to the base was hard, but they all managed it without too much trouble— At least from enemy attacks.

Tending to the injured and dying while traveling back was a different story; Steve didn’t want to think about the lives that were lost in the escape and on the way back.

If only he hadn't broken that damn radio; he could have called for backup-- Could have done something more...

He got most of them back, to safety. That’s what matters, well, that’s what people keep telling him.   
  


Steve was being hailed as a hero and, as much he hated to admit, he relished the attention. But he was just doing what he was meant to do, he was being a soldier.

Bucky was back too, and that felt better to Steve than all the outside attention in the world.

Seeing his best friend strapped to that table, glassy-eyed and incoherent…. He was back  _ now _ and that’s what mattered.

 

Everyone was surprised at how fast Bucky was convalescing.

Dugan, one of the men trapped in the work camp with Bucky, said that the brunet was selfless right up until he was carted off to the experimental ward.

Stupid, but selfless; Steve knew all about Bucky’s headstrong personality, he was  _ always _ looking out for the little guy even if it meant getting his ass handed to him.

Steve assumed that's what had happened here, and Dugan had proven his thought.

Apparently, Bucky had gotten the absolute hell beat out of him more than once, not that surprising-- All things considered.

 

“And he just kept going, even when he had to have two men on either side of him keeping his legs under him. Barnes never knew when to stop.” Dugan had said as he lit a cigar. “He always fought for the little guy.”   
That brought Steve back to Brooklyn; in an alleyway, behind a diner… A dumpster. His frail frame weaving as he tried to keep his footing against his attacker-- Or  _ attackers _ , in some cases. Bucky had, more than once, put himself as a shield between Steve and his assailants.

 

Bucky’s nightmares were bad from night one, he would toss and mumble incoherent phrases about dead soldiers and rotting flesh. One night he even overturned the cot Steve had put him in (there was no way Captain America would allow his friend to heal alone in the barracks).   
He was tense and wary all of the time, and always carried his firearm with him-- He even slept with a hand on it.

 

A week had passed since the liberation, and Steve noticed the general air of the camp was beginning to match his friend’s constant state of agitation. There were whispers from the nighttime guards, speaking low and quick to their fellow soldiers; who, in turn, went to find their counterparts.   
Something had happened during the night.

Bypassing the meal tent and just giving quick nods in response to any “Hello”’s or “Good morning, Captain”’s, Steve approached Colonel Phillip’s tent only to find that it was being guarded.   
  
“Sorry, Cap.” The guard said, not looking or sounding sorry at all. “Not even the fame from your little escapade will get you in there. The Colonel said no-one in our out of this office until the matter is resolved.”   
Steve did his best to ignore the sneer in the guard's voice. “Alright, Butler. Noted.” He turned on his heels, heading back for the meal tent for breakfast-- And word on what might have happened the night before.   
  
Bucky was halfway through with his meal when Steve sat down next to him, surprised to see that his friend was quieter than usual.   
  
“They’re talkin’ crazy, Steve. It can’t be true.” Bucky said through a mouthful of bread, “Can it?” The brunet looked around at the table, as if those sitting near them had more answers.   
  
“Buck, you’ve heard more than I have on the matter. Phillip’s turned me away at his office, and Agent Carter is cooped up there with him. I came here after that.. I just know something happened last night.” Steve’s brow furrowed in slight frustration as he ran his hand through his hair.

  
“An Allied camp Azzano was taken over two nights ago. Those who managed to survive just ran-- And there weren’t many.” Dugan answered instead of Bucky. “Two of the survivors managed to drag themselves our way, night patrol found them hiding in the bushes a few miles out-- Rantin’ and ravin’ about the dead walkin’ again.”   
  
“Sounds like their injuries and exhaustion got the best of them,” Gabe said, leaning back in his chair. The rest of the table murmured in agreement while Bucky stayed uncharacteristically silent, his face draining of all color.   
  
“Buck..?” The brunet jumped and jerked back when Steve lightly tapped his elbow. “Hey, it’s alright-- You’re okay.” Bucky shakily drew in a deep breath and nodded, staring blankly down at his empty plate.   
Steve quickly downed the rest of his meal, giving his friend a quick nudge and a nod, prompting Bucky to follow him up to the kitchen.   
  
“You know something,” Steve said, looking down at Bucky, who was gripping his plate so hard his knuckles were white. “C’mon, Buck, what’s eatin’ at you?”   
  
“What if it’s not shock and dehydration, what if those two are right?” Bucky looked at the ground, then met Steve’s gaze again. “ _ What if they’re right _ ?” His voice trembled now, barely even a whisper.   
  
“Bucky, you and I both know what sickness and injury can do to a body. Remember that third bout of pneumonia a few years ago?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice now, “I was hearin’ carnival music and seein’ clowns in the windows.” He reached out and lightly brushed some dirt off of Bucky’s shoulder. “Dead walking is just monsters in story books, they’re not real.”   
“I know!” Bucky retorted, slamming his plate down onto the table, turning to face Steve. “But Schmidt destroyed the Azzano base, and we’re both fairly confident that there’s not another one nearby-- HYDRA or Nazi.” He took a shaky breath, looking seriously at Steve. “So who managed to attack the Allied one?”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, heading back to sit with the others.   
He shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in his seat. “Hell Buck, I dunno. They probably laid an ambush or somethin', who knows?”

 

“Whatever it was, it was a bloodbath. Utterly inhumane and disgusting.” It was Steve’s turn to jump as the heavily-accented voice of Agent Carter sounded behind him.    
  
“Ma’am.” Steve said, giving her a polite smile. Bucky’s grim expression turned into a wide grin next to him as he saw Steve’s face begin to redden.   
  
“Why don’t you join ‘n sit with us for a bit, Agent?” The brunet gestured to the empty space beside Steve, “Take your mind off whatever’s going on?”   
  
“Colonel Phillips’ requested that Captain Rogers come to his office immediately.” Agent Carter fixed Bucky with a stern look before turning and heading back to the Colonel’s office.   
  
“She’s intimidating all the time,” Bucky said, shaking his head as he pushed himself to his feet. “But sometimes she is  _ terrifying _ .”   
Steve couldn’t help but chuckle, “A true woman, that one.” He stood, holding his hand out to stop Bucky, “You wait here, I’ll keep you posted.” He didn’t want the brunet getting on the Colonel’s bad side when he was already nearing Peggy’s and trying to sneak Bucky in to what sounded like a private briefing did not seem to be a good idea in general.

 

\--

 

“We might have a problem on our hands-- Bigger than you realize.” Colonel Phillips’ face was stonier than usual, he looked almost spooked. Steve looked to his right at the two men who fled the Allied camp.   
Their appearance was shocking, they certainly appeared to have gone straight through the pits of hell and back, covered in dirt and blood spray, eyes blank and fuzzy.   
“What’s the problem?” Steve decided to remain standing, not wanting to displace either of the two survivors for a chair, they both were curled up in their individual spaces, looking to be sleeping hard.   
  
“I assume you already heard about the attack on the Allied base near where you pulled that jailbreak?” Steve nodded, shifting uncomfortably; unsure of where this conversation was going. “These two men claim to be the only ones who made it out alive, their recollection of the events are.. Can I say, unbelievable.”   
  
“Where are you going with this, sir?” He questioned, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly.   
  
“What did you see while you were in Azzano? Anything other than what you told us?” Phillips’ rested his elbows on his desk, leaning forward.   
  
“Anything that will lead you on with the story of ‘dead men walking’?” Steve crossed his arms, frowning in confusion. “Those are just--”   
  
“They’re real.” An exhausted voice from the back of the room stole Steve’s attention, one of the survivors had awoken and was listening. “Some of them were rotting, had flesh hanging off their bones in places; it looked to me like animals were gnawing on their bodies for a while… And the sound, horrid moans.” His voice quavered and he took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his composure. “Some looked like they were.. Fresher.. Than others, but they were definitely dead. I could tell by their eyes, blank and glassy. Hell, some were even gouged out! They came so suddenly, nobody had time to react.” His eyes seemed to unfocus as he talked, staring in fear at nothing. “There was no strategy to the attack, nothing seemed to stop them. I saw one of them get their legs blown clean off, and he still kept dragging his way towards us-- No hesitation.” He swallowed hard, “They… They wouldn’t stop. They didn’t come with weapons, just their bare hands; and that’s what they slaughtered with. Their hands…” He paused again, his shoulders shaking, as he met Steve’s gaze. “And their teeth. They ate men alive, whatever part they could sink their teeth into…” He looked back at the ground, trembling violently.   
“Tell us what happened after that,” Agent Carter urged, her voice soft. “Captain Rogers should know.” Steve felt sick, he didn’t want to hear anymore.   
  
“The… They.. Our men, the ones that were killed… They started to move. It was horrible, they would violently convulse and contort before dragging themselves to their feet and turning on the next poor, living soul and devouring them too. We got out of there as soon as we could, there was no saving those already trapped there.”

 

Steve stood quietly, feeling his face paling from shock; he suddenly felt lightheaded.   
“I-- I need to step outside for a moment, need some fresh air.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he pushed his way out of the door, heading straight back to the meal hall to see Bucky.   
  
The brunet was just where Steve left him, sitting at the table, idly fidgeting with his pocket knife. “What’d they say?” He questioned, straightening up as Steve walked over. “You okay?” Concern laced his voice, the last time Bucky had seen Steve that pale was back in Brooklyn with another nasty bout of pneumonia. 

  
“He’s convinced that their attackers were dead, Buck.” Steve shakily collapsed into the chair next to him. “It apparently took a lot to take one down, multiple bullets to the chest did nothing to even slow them down.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, “Hell, they were biting each other to death. It doesn’t seem right, Azzano was leveled. There was no way anything could survive if it was trapped in there.”   
  
Bucky also started looking very ill again, but he stayed silent and stared down at the table.   
“Buck?” Steve prompted gently, “You’ve got something on your mind, what aren’t you telling me?”

  
“While-” Bucky’s voice caught in his throat, “While I was strapped to that table, I heard things.. Saw things.” His voice was low, tense as he spoke, not looking up from the table. “Zola was telling me about the Skull’s experiments- Trying to create the ultimate soldier, one who could take copious amounts of damage and keep fighting. Brainless, order following… Unstoppable.” When Bucky looked up, Steve could see his stormy-blue eyes stretched wide in fear. “What if they were successful and the next era of super-soldiers were unleashed before the compound could fully collapse?”

  
Steve exhaled slowly, beckoning for his friend to stand. “This was something you needed to tell Phillips’ earlier, this is something he needs to know.” The stocky blond walked with Bucky back to the office; where a shout, followed by a gunshot, thundered through the camp.

 

“Agent Carter? Colonel Phillips?” Steve went from a stroll to a splint, Bucky not far behind, tearing open the door to Phillips’ office. “What’s going on?”

 

“We’re fine, Steven.” Peggy still had her pistol drawn, aimed at the still figure on the floor, blood spatter all over the wall behind it. Her uniform jacket was torn and there was a smear of blood going down her cheek. The survivor that had spoken to Steve earlier was huddled against the wall, looking absolutely terrified; Colonel Phillips had his weapon trained on them.   
“We’re fine, Rogers. Just a little incident.”   
  
“You don’t look very fine.” Steve rounded on Bucky as he spoke up, giving him a sharp look. “ _ What _ ! Look at ‘im!” Bucky protested, gesturing violently at the scene in front of them. He turned and snatched a rifle that one of the other spectators had been clutching, using the long barrel of the weapon to roll over the victim on the floor. “Look, he’s got a fuckin’ bite on his shoulder. What animal does that look like it’s from?”

Steve stepped closer to get a better look at the bite before a low groan rose from the body, and Steve’s attention was drawn to the twitching of the corpse’s hand. It flailed about and grasped the barrel of the rifle, pulling it down as if to bite it.

 

Bucky let the corpse bite at the tip, pulling the trigger and firing once, brain matter caking the floor below it. He didn’t hesitate to turn his firearm on the remaining survivor, deaf to the protests and orders from everyone around him.   
Except for one.

 

“Hey, hey!” Steve’s voice, coupled with the blond roughly snatching the gun out of his hands brought Bucky back to reality. “Stop!” He handed the rifle back to its original owner, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. “Stand. Down.”   
  
“What in the blue hell do you think you’re doing, Barnes?” Colonel Phillips stared down Bucky, his eyes hot with fury.   
  
“Colonel,” Bucky looked over to Steve as the blond stepped up, “Bucky has further information about Azzano that I think you need to hear,” He glanced around the room, “Private information.” The men crowding the door entrance seemed to have gotten the message as Steve started towards the door, closing it as the soldiers dispersed to gossip about what had just occurred. He took position next to Peggy, splitting his attention between Bucky, the remaining survivor, and the now-headless corpse still laying on the floor.

 

“This better help explain your reasoning for shooting this soldier.” The Colonel stated, sitting back in his chair as he loosely crossed his arms over his chest, awaiting a convincing explanation.   
  
“It will, sir.” Bucky took a slow breath before he spoke again. “Steve told you where he found me, right? Strapped to a damn table in a laboratory?” His jaw tensed, “Zola and I got pretty buddy-buddy in there; since nobody who entered the labs ever returned, that Fritz had no issue in telling me all about his,” He made a sour face, “Experiments.”

 

“And what does that have to do with the attack on the base or on these victims?” Phillips prompted, gesturing for Bucky to continue speaking.

 

“The Germans, well, Skull, wants his own breed of super-soldier: Indestructible, unstoppable, impervious to pain or injury.. Easy to control.” He glanced briefly towards Steve. “Yeah, super-soldiers like Steve are good to have, but they would still have their minds. Normal men are nearly unstoppable forces when things like fear, pain, self-preservation are all taken out of the equation. They want mindless armies led by the strongest there is…” Bucky stopped again, his steely blue eyes clouding with fear. “Zola, h-he said that they were getting close to developing the perfect soldier, but still had to work out a few of the kinks in the system. He showed me the other subjects, he called them his “patient zero’s”, he wanted to show me what I would become.” His face darkened, “A whole facility full of monsters… Dead-eyed and shambling around until you put in a prize of live meat, people.” A shudder ripped through his body and he tightly closed his eyes. “Those things tore that girl apart without hesitation, she was dead- She had to be. Her throat was gone and so was half of her face. Every drop of her blood was outside of her body, but she still got up about ten minutes later as one of them. Her wounds didn’t even seem to affect her.”   
He stopped again, his hands beginning to tremble. “After you get attacked, you turn into one of them. That’s what Zola told me Skull wanted the most out of all this-- The ability of his soldiers to reproduce and re-group. Whatever those things are carrying, it’s contagious and one-hundred percent fatal. If you’re not dead before you’re bit, you will be over the next few days, and the only thing you can do for yourself is a bullet in your mouth. You have to destroy the brain.”

Bucky looked down and fell silent, seeming to draw into himself as he recalled the events of his time in the Azzano prison camp. Steve put a hand on his shoulder, looking between Peggy and Colonel Phillips.

 

“I’m going to take him back to the barracks, let him lay down.” Steve said softly, “I think he deserves a rest.”   
His heart was pounding as he led Bucky to his own sleeping quarters, ignoring Phillips’ orders for him to stay and talk it through,  and any inquiries from other soldiers.

 

Steve allowed Bucky to take his bed, while he settled down in a chair beside him, the brunet fell asleep quickly-- Exhausted from the morning’s events.   
It took ages for Bucky to fall into a deep sleep; he was tossing and turning, plagued by night terrors and vivid dreams. He’d wake up screaming every ten minutes or so, Steve having to calm him down each time.

After gently rubbing Bucky’s back for hours, Steve was confident that the male would not awake again.   
He stood, his stomach protesting his decision to forgo lunch, the blond looked outside and saw that the sun was beginning to set-- Dinner was almost over.. He gave another look to Bucky’s sleeping figure, quietly setting up a cot beside the bed before he left.

 

Steve arrived right as the kitchen was closing up, he took what he needed from the meal tent, wrapping Bucky’s share up and stashing it in his bag for later as he headed for the office.   
He paused to let the men carrying the body from the office, taking it to be burned and buried. The remaining survivor was being led to the medicine tent so they could check him over for bites and tend to his other wounds.

 

He knocked on the doorframe of the office, giving a tired sigh as he entered.   
“What’s our next move? If everything Bucky and that soldier said is true, border guards and barbed wire isn’t going to do shit.”   
  
“Go to bed, Steven. There’s not much we can do tonight.” Peggy said, sighing in resignation. “If we announce the details of what happened this morning now, what we’ve learned, we don’t know how some of these men will react.”   
  
“She’s right, son. We can’t risk letting this get out to the general public, if the media back home hear about this, it’ll be a shitshow.” Phillips ran a hand through what was left of his hair and looked Steve over. “We’ll talk about this in the morning, you get some rest.”

 

And with that, Steve turned and left, interrupted by a couple nosy soldiers on the way back to his barracks. They wanted to know the story, why Bucky had reacted the way he did.   
And Steve told them after all, didn’t they have the right to know?   
He told the same story multiple times that night, more and more soldiers coming in to hear what he was saying. Half the camp knew what had occured before he officially called it a night, exhausted and a bit terrified of what he was saying-- Of the possibility that it could be true. The story chilled him to the bone, and each time he told it the chill worsened.

 

Once he got back, Bucky was still asleep so he decided to eat the brunet’s share.

He settled down in the cot, waiting for sleep to overtake him; it didn’t, however, the chill in his blood began to form ice crystals that seemed to stab him in the heart every time he took a breath.

 

_ It’s my fault. This is my fault. _ The words ran through his mind as he stared at the ceiling.  _ If I was faster, if I’d gotten to the Skull before he leveled the base… They’d still be in there and this wouldn’t be happening. _

 

When he finally fell asleep, he tossed and turned much like Bucky had. Dead-eyed soldiers ravaging the camp, him powerless to do anything. The wails and moans of the injured and the damned crying out for him to help while at the same time as blaming him for their suffering.   
  
Steve didn’t get much sleep that night.


End file.
